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Saucy Shorts for Chefs

Saucy Shorts for Chefs
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US$ 12.99 (+ tax)
Presents a collection of short stories, mixed with delicious recipes. Divided into starters, main courses and desserts, this aims to be a literary candle-lit dinner.
Accent Press Ltd; September 2006
ISBN 9781433703362
Read online, or download in secure PDF format or MobiPocket
Excerpt
I knew he was Italian from the very first moment I set eyes on him. He had those dark, penetrating eyes and that moody expression. I remember the way he looked at me as I approached the counter, through long, luxurious, black eyelashes. When he spoke in a husky accented voice, I wasn’t disappointed. “Ciao, Bella, what can I get you?” Alright, it was a corny line but who was complaining? I ordered a mozzarella and tomato panini and a large decaf, skinny latte. “Come on,” he teased, “you don’t need a skinny Latte, you already a skinny lady.” If only, I still couldn’t get into my favourite pair of jeans despite constant dieting. But Italians like their women curvy, don’t they? So, I took it as a compliment with a sprinkling of humour from a very dishy Italian chef. Six months later, I walked into the same café, wearing my favourite pair of jeans with room to spare. But I didn’t need to place my order. I just sat at ‘my table’ as Luigi endearingly referred to it. I waited while he prepared something low fat and delicious for me. Sometimes, when he isn’t too busy, he joins me at ‘my table’, sips Espresso and tells me stories about his childhood in Sicily and I listen with total abandonment. Luigi has this special gift, you see, he can make any woman feel like a princess, regardless of age, shape or size. Only, I’m short of one thing… a prince charming, but hopefully that’s all about to change. I’m feeling a bit jittery about taking Luigi home to meet mum. Who’d have thought that, after all those dates, Luigi would be the one to fit the bill? Doubtless, she’ll have her reservations, she always does, but he’s the only one who passed ‘the food test’, so she can’t complain about that. Let me explain. Mum has this theory about eating habits. “You can tell a lot about people by the way they eat their food, Lucy, all you have to do is learn how to read them,” she said over Sunday lunch three weeks ago. “What, you mean like tarot reading?” I teased, knowing that mum hated anything to do with predictions. “Oh, don’t be so ridiculous,” she took a sip of wine then fixed me with one of her looks and I knew I wasn’t going to like what was coming next. “That speed dating thingy you’re going on with Carol?” My eyes narrowed suspiciously, I was wondering when we’d get round to this. “Yeah, go on,” I said, cutting into my roast chicken a little harder than intended. “Well, I was wondering if you’d do me a favour?” “What kind?” I asked guardedly. Surely she didn’t want to come with us now she was single again? “Have dinner with each man who contacts you on your list, study their eating habits then report back to me. I swear I’ll pick out your prince charming for you.” I let out a sigh of relief. And I dubiously agreed. What harm could it do? And it would give me a peaceful life.